


Reflections in the Mirror

by weakinteraction



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: F/F, Fucking Machines, Mentions of Mirror Georgiou/Tilly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 01:47:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21291623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weakinteraction/pseuds/weakinteraction
Summary: Tilly has been captured by her Mirror Universe counterpart. (AU diverging mid-S1.)
Relationships: Sylvia Tilly/Mirror Sylvia Tilly
Comments: 8
Kudos: 26
Collections: Femdom Exchange 2019





	Reflections in the Mirror

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misswriterly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misswriterly/gifts).

She had plenty of time in her gilded cage to think. And to read: the databanks were clearly censored for nearly everyone, it seemed, and in some areas very heavily, but her counterpart had done nothing to stop her accessing what was publicly available.

Which included her Starfleet service record -- no, her counterpart's; whatever they had in common, they were _not_ the same person.

Except. Except that there were so many similarities. She'd established differences in the historical record (well, OK, between this universe's historical records and her patchwork knowledge of the history of her universe, assembled from classes in a dozen different schools, each of which apparently put the Archer Voyage on the syllabus for whichever year Tilly was going to be with them, the Academy -- which had, unsurprisingly, put heavy emphasis on the exact same topic -- and the things she had pursued for her own interest, which was why she knew all about mid-20th-century automobiles but wasn't sure whether World War III had happened in the 1990s or the 2050s) going back centuries and centuries, well before First Contact. By any reasonable standard, there was no way that there should be another version of her in a history that had diverged so long ago, let alone another Michael, another Philippa Georgiou--

Tilly had never met either version of Georgiou. That was about to change. She wasn't going to think about that.

The implications of the existence of this universe -- so close to her own in some ways, so far in others -- were fascinating. The fact that they had seemingly come here through the mycelial network added another layer of complexity to proceedings. Did the existence of so many iterations of the same individuals here make it a strange attractor in the phase space of the multiverse? Or was it really only Stamets that mattered?

She searched the database for the Empire's thinking on quantum reality, for any hint that they knew about the mycelial network, for Stamets' counterpart's record. Restricted. Classified. Captain's eyes only.

The door swished open without warning. There was only one person who had unrestricted access to the Captain's quarters, and that was the Captain.

"What are you reading?" The tone was one of friendly curiosity.

Tilly shut the screen down instantly. "Nothing really, just trying to keep myself from getting bored."

Her counterpart smiled wolfishly, eyes raking over Tilly's body. She was suddenly conscious of the skimpy gauziness of the outfit she had to wear. While she'd been reading it had been easy to forget. Now, as the other Tilly's hand grabbed her bare thigh and quickly worked its way up to press into her mound, it was impossible to think of anything but. "Oh, poor baby. Did I leave you alone too long?"

"No, no, really it's fine," Tilly stammered.

"You know, I don't think this has ever happened before. The same person being the captain and the captain's woman."

The databases had been very clear on the whole "captain's woman" thing. There were male concubines too, but judging by the lurid pornography it was the female subs that had caught the public imagination.

Killy stepped closer without moving her hand. It wasn't as though she hadn't already invaded Tilly's personal space, but somehow the proximity of her whole body was worse than the hand on her cunt, worse than the way the minute pressure Killy was applying to her labia was _just right_. "We're unique." She laughed. "Unique because we're not unique, how about that?"

She didn't, as far as Tilly had been able to observe, speak like this with anyone else. It made her ache inside to think about the ways in which they were so alike, but where her Starfleet had accommodated her, the Empire's had forced her counterpart to suppress whole facets of her personality to survive. And it gave her nausea to contemplate that she had done so so successfully here. But it made a horrible sort of sense, too: where the social rules of her universe were often bewildering, the ones of this reality were horrifyingly simple: kill, or be killed. Dominate, or submit.

The slap on her face, for getting lost in her reverie, was a sharp reminder that they were not so alike as all that, that two decades of that reality had been enough to cause considerable divergence. "I _said_, how about that?"

"Very, er, amusing?" Tilly tried. "Captain," she added hurriedly at the dangerous look in Killy's eyes. Her other hand not left Tilly's cunt, and now suddenly pressed inwards, pushing the gossamer-thin fabric of the panties between her labia.

Killy laughed. "I love how wet you get," she said. "You are the perfect submissive. The Emperor will be very pleased when I give you to her."

Suddenly, savagely, her hand came away and reached over the top of the panties to whip them down her legs. Reflexively, Tilly stepped out of them. Killy picked them up and made a show of rubbing the fabric between her fingers. "You've ruined these," she said.

"Sorry, Captain," Tilly said.

Killy ignored her. "Still, they might be good for one more thing before they go to the matter reclamation unit." With her other hand, she grabbed Tilly's cheeks between finger and thumb, forcing her mouth open. Then she balled up the panties and stuffed them inside, before pushing her chin up to close her mouth again.

Forced now to breathe through her nose, her own scent rising from her mouth was overpowering. She felt herself getting wetter still, her body betraying her. Worse still was the fact that her mind was betraying her too -- that some part of her enjoyed it, wanted it.

Michael and the others would be coming. All she needed to do was find a way to get a message to them.

"Strip," Killy commanded.

She pulled the negligee off over her head awkwardly, then fumbled with the straps of the bra. Made of the same material as the panties, and rather too small (Killy said she liked the look of her breasts pressed together inside it), it crumpled into almost nothing in her hand as she removed it.

As soon as she did so, Killy tweaked her nipple. "Sopping wet cunt, diamond-hard nipples," she observed. "You'd do anything I asked right now, wouldn't you?"

"Yss, Cptun," she mumbled through her improvised gag.

Another slap across the face. "If I gag you, it's because I don't want you to talk. You can answer by nodding or shaking your head. Understood?"

Tilly nodded. She wanted to say "That only works for yes/no questions", but she got the feeling that Killy wasn't about to ask her anything particularly complex.

"Lie down," Killy said. "Spreadeagle position."

Tilly splayed herself out across the bed, spreading her legs as wide as she could. She was acutely aware of Killy's eyes' laser-like focus on her glistening cunt.

She expected the restraints that Tilly applied quickly and deftly to each of her wrists and ankles. What she hadn't anticipated was the device that her counterpart retrieved from a drawer and secured to the end of the bed by a magnetic clamp.

It looked like a disc approximately 30 cm in diameter, and 5 cm thick, with controls set into its outer rim. Killy looked along it as though she was sighting a rifle, made a minute adjustment to the position she had placed it, then jabbed quickly and precisely at the controls.

The centre of the disc whirred with activity, reassembling itself into a long, thin pole with a realistic dildo at the end of it. "Does your universe have these?"

She'd never seen one, but that was hardly evidence that they didn't exist. The diversity of sexual experience suggested that it almost certainly did, however, so after some hesitation she settled for nodding.

"Interesting," Killy said. "And can the ones in your universe do this?" She adjusted the controls and it reconfigured itself, growing ridges along the sides and even little extrusions around the head. "Tellarite," Killy said, as if in explanation. She adjusted the controls again and the end bifurcated, growing even more ridges and spikes in the process. "Klingon," she said.

Tilly had never had any particular interest in alien genitalia, but she received a crash course over the next few minutes, alongside much gloating about the superiority of the Empire in terms of the number of species that were available as sex slaves for those with exotic tastes.

Eventually, Killy returned to the first option she had tried and used the movement controls to nudge it forward to the entrance to Tilly's cunt.

"When I first became Captain, and the Emperor was ... testing my loyalty, she left me in one of these for a day and a half. I imagine for you it will be weeks," Killy said, almost conversationally. "So you see, this is an important part of your training." She activated one more control and the machine began to fuck her, the long pole now moving backwards and forwards through the ring as the dildo slid in and out of her.

The stimulation, on top of everything that had come before, was almost too much. But with the improvised gag in her mouth, it was impossible to beg for permission to come. She settled for staring pleadingly at the Captain, hoping that her meaning would be clear.

"Come as many times as you like," Killy said with a smile. "In fact, I want you to count how many orgasms you have. You can tell me at the end." Seeing Tilly's puzzled look, she added, "I have work to do. It should take me, oh, no more than two or three hours." She sat down in the same chair that Tilly had been in before she entered. "Count yourself lucky that I didn't make you kneel down here and lick me for the entire time." Then a painfully familiar expression appeared on Killy's face -- a thought had occurred to her. "Here," she said, conjuring a reflection holo-field at the foot of the bed from the computer. "This should help you keep count."

Tilly wanted to close her eyes, but part of her was undeniably fascinated by her lewd appearance in the hologram. She didn't want to be turned on by her situation, but she had to admit to herself that she was. And deep down, she wondered if the tables were turned, would she enjoy doing the same to Killy? She couldn't help thinking that the answer might be yes.

Killy, however, affected a complete lack of interest now that things had been set in motion. As she sat down at her terminal, Tilly watched her reflection as the first orgasm ripped through her. Even as she panted, trying to recover, the machine was relentless and maintained exactly the same pace and intensity even as her cunt tightened around it, and soon she was coming again.

By the fifth orgasm, her body had adjusted, and she could tell it would take considerably longer for the sixth one to arrive. She finally had time to think straight. If only she could lure her counterpart away from the computer terminal while she was still logged in, and then get her to fall asleep (the easy part, in some ways), she might be able to find a way to get a message to _Discovery_, or Michael aboard the _Shenzhou_.

Killy looked over at her. "I know that look," she said. "You're planning something." She got up and crossed to the machine at the foot of the bed. "Time to put a stop to that." She pressed a single physical button on the side before heading back to her desk again. "Random mode," she said.

Tilly could feel the dildo inside her reconfiguring itself already.

This was going to be a long few hours.


End file.
